Hotel.
“Yes, sir, Mister”—the clerk turned the register to examine it—“Jensen? Mr. Jensen, welcome to Delta and the Central House Hotel. I hope you find the accommodations satisfactory.”
“I’m sure I will, thank you,” Smoke said. “I see that you have a restaurant here in the hotel. Is it one that you would recommend? I mean, beside the fact that you are working here?”
“I do indeed recommend it, and it is not just because I work here,” the clerk replied.
“No need to apologize for being loyal to your employer. I admire loyalty. Suppose, after dinner, I would like to have a drink or two. Which saloon would you recommend?”
“We have three saloons in town, but I would recommend the Palace Sampling Room. You can’t miss it. It is right across the street from the Farmers and Merchants Bank.”
“Thank you.” Smoke saw a stack of newspapers on the corner of the desk. “Local paper?”
“Yes, sir, this is the
Smoke picked up one of the papers. “How much is it?”
“Oh, the paper is free for the hotel guests, sir,” the clerk said.
Smoke nodded, then went into the dining room. Selecting a table where he could place his back in the corner, he read it as he waited for his dinner to be served.
One article had the headline Outlaw Cole Parnell Hurled into Eternity in Legal Hanging.
He felt no particular need to read that article, as he had been present when the hanging took place. But the next article did catch his attention.
FIVE ARE MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD
Smoke smiled. Escalante was the next town over from Delta. He was on the trail, all right.
As Smoke started into the dining room, the clerk reached under his desk and pulled out a circular someone had brought him a few days earlier.
WANTED
FOR MURDER
SMOKE JENSEN
$5,000 REWARD
DEAD OR ALIVE
The desk clerk scrawled a quick note, then signaled to one of the bellhops. As the young bellhop approached the desk, the clerk held the note out toward him. “Kenny, here is a quarter for you. I want you to run down the street to the Palace Sampling Room and give this to Loomis Coltrane.”
Kenny nodded, then left the hotel on his mission.
Ten minutes later Loomis Coltrane came into the lobby. Coltrane was a medium-sized man, unprepossessing in appearance with a sweeping mustache and evil looking eyes. He strode over to the desk. “The note said you wanted to see me.”
“Do you remember the wanted poster you brought me the other day?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Suppose I told you that I know where you can find Kirby Jensen?”
“Kirby Jensen? I ain’t interested in him. It’s Smoke Jensen that the reward is for.”
“They are one and the same.”
“The hell you say.”
“Yes, I say.”
“So, what if I am looking for him?” Coltrane asked.
“It might be that I know where to find him,” the clerk said.
“Where?”
“Information like that should be worth something, don’t you think?”
“Where is he?”
“Like say, a thousand dollars?”
“A thousand dollars? Are you crazy? I ain’t got that kind of money.”
“I’m willing to wait until after you collect the reward.”
“That’s too much money. There are already three of us involved,” Coltrane said.
“That will give you thirteen hundred and thirty dollars apiece. Surely you can be satisfied with that.”
Coltrane stroked his jaw for a moment, then nodded. “All right, I’ll go along with it. That is, if your information tells us how to find him.”
The clerk leaned around to look into the dining room. At first he didn’t see Smoke, then he spotted him in the far corner.
“Do you see that man back in the corner, reading the newspaper?”
“Yeah, what about him?”
